


The Dream Team: A Hypnos Cabin Adventure

by EmCG_123_2020



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Action/Adventure, Comedy, Fun, Gen, Greek Mythology - Freeform, References to Ancient Greek Religion & Lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:14:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28013754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmCG_123_2020/pseuds/EmCG_123_2020
Summary: The world has been plunged into a state of incurable insomnia after Hypnos, the Greek god of sleep, has been captured by a mysterious entity from the underworld. It's up to Clovis, Greek demigod and son of Hypnos, and his two siblings, Tara and Orrin, as they travel to the underworld to free their father. Running on very little sleep, the Hypnos siblings log their adventures in dream journals as they tell of their quest to bring peace and nap time back. From riding sleep deprived pegasi, playing Go Fish with their underworld relatives, and dealing with the stressed out goddess of relaxation, the Hypnos cabin will never be the same. Meet some exciting figures from Greek mythology in this fun, 3-part, Percy Jackson universe adventure.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. Clovis's Dream Journal

As soon as the camp was held hostage by sleep paralysis demons, I knew the day was going to be exhausting. Of course, what else can you expect from Camp Half-Blood, home to teenage demigods and creatures from Greek mythology alike?

Were we surprised? No.

Were my siblings and I prepared for the whirlwind quest ahead of us? Also, no.

As a child of Hypnos, the Greek god of sleep, my siblings and I don’t get called on for many quests. If we ever wanted to volunteer for one, the other campers would say, “Right. In your dreams.”

Well, yeah. That’s kind of the point of being the child of the sleep god. Most of our adventures take place deep within our subconscious. This has given us the reputation of being soft, lazy, or even cowardly. But I might argue that the risk of losing one’s mind is far greater a risk than losing a limb, but I digress.

Since this may be our one and only “real” quest, my siblings and I have decided to log our adventure in our dream journals so that other demigods or children of Hypnos can witness the accounts of our bravery, wit, and at times, our utter nonsensical tomfoolery. So . . . buckle up.

The day started as any day at camp would: archery, capture the flag, and an all-out war between the Ares and Hermes cabins after a simple prank took a turn, resulting in a raging fire on the Ares cabin roof. Normal stuff.

The majority of the camp stood in the field amongst the cabins, half listening to Mr. D (Dionysus, god of wine, camp director extraordinaire) yell at us for being useless excuses for heroes and campers. Again, normal stuff.

Then things took a turn.

“Are you falling asleep, naptime?” Mr. D’s neck veins popped out as he screamed at me from the front of the crowd.

Yeah, I was nodding off. Sue me.

Then suddenly, Mr. D and all of the campers collapsed onto the lawn, stiff as boards and completely paralyzed. Their eyes darted back and forth trying to communicate their distress.

I might as well have been paralyzed too. My mouth hung open and I looked around helplessly at my fellow campers.

A dark mist manifested around each person, and a deep, sinister growl cut the silence. The mist curled and twisted to form large, black dogs. Gray foam oozed out of their muzzles. The beasts leaned over each kid, prolonging their attacks.

“Nice puppies,” I whimpered.

Each dog turned in my direction and snarled. Their eyes glowed red with hate and rage. Their lips quivered, ready to rip me apart. They encircled me. It was obvious the creatures were infected with some rabies virus, but their behavior was slow and calculated. They wanted me to be afraid.

A nightmare.

I looked down and saw my body lying flat on the ground below me. I had been astral projecting ever since I could remember, but rarely did it catch me off guard. This was something new. If I was technically asleep, these nightmare hounds could actually hurt me since we were in the same state of consciousness, unlike the other campers who were somewhere in between.

“Is this a message from my dad?” I tried to keep my voice steady. Keyword: tried.

The rabid dogs moved in closer.

“Wake up, Clovis.” I told myself as I tried to step back into my body, but something was blocking me. “Time to wake up!”

The eyes of the hounds glowed bright red, and all at once, they jumped at me. I threw my arms over my face and fell back.

Jolting awake, I sat up on the lawn. The other campers sat awake, their faces bewildered after their subconscious attack.

The dogs were gone and there was no more black mist.

“Does someone want to tell me—" Mr. D marched toward me— “what in the name of hell hounds was that?”

The door to cabin #15 (the Hypnos cabin) at the far end of the field flew open and my sister, Tara, stumbled out. Her curly black hair was an extreme case of bed-head.

“Family meeting!” She yelled, totally out of breath, before she ran back into the cabin without giving any explanation. Typical.

“Naptime, you better have a good explanation for this.” Mr. D barked as I sprinted to my cabin.

* * *

Once inside, I instantly felt better . . . and then I looked around.

Normally, the Hypnos cabin was warm, cozy, and perfectly in order to support an ideal state of rest.

A fire crackling in the hearth, soft violin music playing (though sometimes we changed it to lo fi hip hop music – beats to relax and study to), and water from the river Lethe dripping peacefully into a bowl. The smell of laundry pulls you in, and the fluffy quilts keep you there in a warm embrace. Normally, a picture of comfort.

But this wasn’t it.

As someone who has seen warzones in the dreams of traumatized half-bloods, this was much, much worse.

Beds, chairs, and tables were flipped upside down. Bed sheets and blankets were flung across the room. Feathers drifted through the air onto the mutilated remains of the once soft and fluffy pillows. The fire had gone out and the water stopped dripping. Even the music has stopped playing.

A normal person would have guessed that the world’s most intense and awesome pillow fight had just come to a dramatic end, but as a son of Hypnos, I was mortified.

“Tara, what . . .”

Tara held up the tattered remains of her teddy bear.

“It was our brother.” Her voice seemed far away.

“Orrin?” I asked.

As if on cue, the cabin door flew open and our third sibling ran in.

“Guys, the weirdest thing just happened on the volleyball court. These dog things. . .” Orrin’s voice trailed off as he gaped at the mess. “Gods.”

My siblings and I look nothing alike, but that’s because we’re half-siblings. Same dad (Hypnos), different moms.

I have pale skin, blond hair, and a stocky build. Tara has tan skin, wild, curly black hair, and a tall, lanky build. Orrin has dark skin, short black hair, and could pass as a college football player. Our only shared sibling traits are the dark circles under our eyes, and the constant yawning, stretching, and eye-rubbing.

Orrin knelt down to the floor and held a feather.

“Who did this?” He whispered.

“Our brother.” Tara attempted, ungracefully, to put her her mattress back on her bed.

“Clovis?”

“Don’t look at me.”

“No, it was our other brother,” Tara corrected.

“You don’t mean—"

“Phobetor.”

It all made sense.

Phobetor is the Greek god of nightmares. Also, a son of Hypnos. Typically, Phobetor appears in nightmares in the form of an animal. A terrifying black dog with rabies, for example.

You may have also heard of our other godly siblings such as Morpheus, god of dreams, or Phantasos, god of unreal dreams.

We also have thousands of other godly siblings known as the Oneiroi. They live in the underworld and fly out at night like bats to deliver messages from the gods in the form of dreams or nightmares. Morpheus, Phantasos, and Phobetor are the most powerful, and most active of the Oneiroi, with Morpheus being the leader.

Totally normal stuff.

Tara collapsed on her lopsided mattress. Her moan was muffled by the bed, but Orrin and I felt the frustration.

“Why don’t we all take a breath, find peace, and calm down for a second?” I suggested.

Tara shot up. “I can’t find peace, Clovis! I had a night terror in the middle of the day!”

“You can actually have a night terror at any time of day.” We glared at Orrin as he spoke. “But they do typically occur in the last third of the night . . . and they don’t typically hold a summer camp hostage. Sorry. Go on.”

“Tara, can you tell us what happened?” I tried to sound as calm as possible. Again, keyword: tried.

Tara sat up on the bed, feathers stuck in her curls.

“I was just in here, minding my own business, fast asleep, when I could feel a presence trying to catch me by surprise. Classic sleep paralysis tactic.

“I told them to show themselves, which I absolutely regret now because Mr. Nightmare himself showed up. It’s not like this was his first visit, but for some reason, this time his powers were all over the place.” She paused to gesture vaguely at the room.

“He was angry. And not like annoyed or irritated, but like, he was in full on rage monster mode. He was this giant rabid dog who tore the place apart.

“I asked him what he wanted, but the only thing he managed to say was, “She caught Hypnos. No sleep.” And as wonderfully vague as that is, it was the most unhelpful thing he’s ever said to me.” Tara crossed her arms, finished with her story.

“Well, I know how we can fix this whole mess,” Orrin stood up.

We waited with anticipation.

“A nap!” Orrin leapt onto his mattress on the floor and scraped feathers together to make a sad pillow substitute.

I agreed, climbing into my own busted bunk. The lights of the cabin automatically dimmed as we quieted down, ready for the clarity only an afternoon of rest could bring. Yet, it never came.

Our eyes flew open all at once and we stared in horrified amazement at the fact that we were all still awake.

“Can’t sleep!”

* * *

“CHIRON!” We pounded on the door to the Big House.

“Why is it locked?” Tara yelled as we all stepped back.

“Maybe Mr. D told Chiron what happened earlier, and he’s investigating?” I didn’t even convince myself of this.

“Stay clear, guys. I’ll bust the door down.” Orrin pushed us aside and got ready for action.

He rushed forward and kicked his long leg out in front of him. At the same time, the door to the Big House opened and Orrin tumbled forward, nearly going into the splits.

“Get in here.” Mr. D reached out from the room and yanked me and my siblings in.

Mr. D shut and locked the door behind him. He looked wearily through the closed blinds. How did my day turn into a spy thriller so quickly?

A clip-clop sound behind us signaled Chiron’s entrance into the main room. The tall centaur crossed his arms as he looked the Hypnos children up and down.

We tended to sleep through his lessons and avoided participating in most camp activities since we preferred to sleep. This didn’t earn us a very high place in Chiron’s eyes.

“I was wondering when you three would show up.” He spoke in a low voice. “We’ve had campers barging in here for a while, asking questions I don’t have the answers to.”

We did our best to explain the events of earlier, but frequent yawning broke out and spread to Chiron and Mr. D. Once we wrapped it up, we sat in awkward silence while Chiron sat in thought.

“So, the children of the sleep god have insomnia. This probably means the rest of the world won’t be able to sleep as long as whatever this is continues?” Chiron asked.

“I believe it’s a missing persons case,” Tara spoke up, “I believe she, whoever she is, has taken Hypnos and has stopped the world from sleeping.”

“So, are there any she’s who could have taken him?” Chiron asked.

After a moment of reflection, it hit me. “I need to make a call.”

I walked over to the Iris fountain and tossed in a golden drachma. Tara, Orrin, Chiron, and Mr. D stood behind me.

“You’re not calling who I think you’re calling, are you?” Orrin whispered.

“Oh, he’s calling her, all right,” Tara grumbled.

The shimmering image of a strawberry blond woman with perfect, glowing skin appeared within the rainbow mist. She smiled a forced grin.

“Lockport Cave & Underground Boat Ride . . . & Spa, how may I help you?” The woman spoke with the feigned sincerity of any customer service worker.

“Pasithea!” I shouted.

“No need to shout.” She spoke through her teeth. “The connection is just fine. What do you brats want?”

“Do you know where dad is?” Tara shoved me out of the way to where I was standing between Chiron and Mr. D.

“Why would I know where your father is?”

“He’s your husband.”

Chiron and Mr. D exchanged understanding glances.

Pasithea is the goddess of relaxation, meditation, hallucinations and all other altered states of consciousness. Hypnos did some deeds, made a few deals, and boom: wicked step-goddess. We never see her because she’s busy running every spa on the planet . . . plus she’s a jerk. You’d think the goddess of relaxation would be cool, but she’s more wound up than the Athena cabin studying for an exam.

“Don’t remind me of my marriage to that bum.” She rubbed her forehead. “As if having you dummy-gods as step children wasn’t bad enough. Your father went to stay the night in his little god cave and never came back.”

“So, you didn’t kidnap him and plunge the world into an eternal sleeplessness?” Orrin asked.

“No, but if you see your dad, tell him he can kiss my—”

I waved away the image and hung up on her.

“I know where Hypnos is.”

The others waited for my revelation.

“Hypnos lives in a cave in the underworld with his siblings,” I explained, “and he must have gone there and gotten god-napped or something. The others might know where he is.”

“Who are his siblings again?” Orrin asked.

“Old Age, Suffering, Doom, Deception, Blame, Strife, Retribution, and Death.” My mouth went dry as I spoke.

“Yikes.”

“Seems like a quest to me.” Chiron stroked his beard.

My siblings and I avoided his gaze. It’s not that we didn’t want to rescue our father, but we weren’t exactly the most seasoned warriors. Plus, a quest to the underworld sounded taxing. And as people who require 12-15 hours of sleep a day, this quest would only make things worse for us.

“Perhaps Clarisse is available? If not, I’d check with the Athena and Apollo cabins and see if they have someone willing to go,” Tara suggested as we headed for the door.

“Woah. Hang on, sleepy heads.” Mr. D stood between us and the door. “Shouldn’t this be your quest since, I don’t know, it involves your dad!”

“I’m not so sure us three are as capable as some of the other campers.” I tried not to sound pathetic and cowardly, but as we’ve heard before, keyword: tried.

“We’re more equipped for bed time than the underworld.” Orrin tripped over his own feet as he walked forward, as if to prove his point.

“I think you can handle this! Who was it who figured out that Percy Jackson needed to switch to a waterbed when he was having trouble sleeping?” Chiron asked. “If it wasn’t for you, Percy would have kept sleepwalking into the lake and scaring the water nymphs.

“And who was it who helped Annabeth Chase learn how to lucid dream, so she could study at all hours of the night and not lose a single bit of sleep?

“Who had the Apollo cabin play a special lullaby that put the blue team to sleep so the red team could win? Sure, we banned you from playing for the rest of that summer because you technically cheated, but I have to admit, that was clever!” Chiron finished his argument but got no reply from us.

“Very well.” He threw his arms up in surrender. “I’ll send someone else to find your father. If I don’t get a nap soon, there’s no telling who I might send on this quest.”

I looked at Tara and Orrin. Chiron’s speech did the trick.

“Okay,” I said, “we’ll go to the underworld.”

* * *

Our adventure started about three steps outside the border of the camp when we realized we had absolutely no idea how to get to the underworld. You’d think that would be common camp knowledge.

We paced back and forth trying to figure out where dad’s miserable cave might be.

“What did Pasithea say when she answered my call?” I squeezed my eyes shut, as if it would help my brain work harder. “I wish I could sleep and do a memory search.”

“I wish I could sleep, period,” Tara added.

“It was lock something.” I spoke to myself. “Locksmith, Lockpick, Lock—"

“Lockport Cave & Underground Boat Ride!” Tara remembered.

“And Spa!” Orrin jumped up.

“I REMEMBER IT NOW!” I bellowed.

“That’s because we just said it,” Tara argued.

“No, no. I mean, I remember where I heard that name before. I fell asleep during an episode of Ghost Hunters a few months ago, and they were exploring a haunted cave in a city near Buffalo, New York, and—”

Tara moved her finger, signaling me to speed it up.

It all flooded out of me in fractured bits as I remembered.

“There’s this story. It’s a Roman story about this guy named Aeneas who journeyed in to the underworld. He goes into this cave and he comes out of it in the Underworld where he meets Hypnos and all our other creepy relatives! He sees the elm of the Oneiroi. Then there’s this other story about the Oneiroi flying through two gates of a cave to bring either truthful or false dreams to the mortal world. And I’m pretty sure that cave upstate doesn’t have a spa, which means Pasithea followed Hypnos up there to be closer to his cave which has access to the underworld, which explains the hauntings. Don’t even get me started on the Oneiroi resembling bats, which New York has a decent population of cave bats, and—”

“CLOVIS! You’re rambling,” Tara shouted, “and if I could sleep, I would have been out sometime around Ghost Hunters.”

“I’m glad you’re the smart one,” Orrin said, “because remembering all of that sounds like a lot of work.”

I stood, triumphant in my knowledge.

“Let’s go to Lockport.”


	2. Tara's Dream Journal

Howdy-do fellow Hypnos spawn, demigods, and casual dream journal readers! Who’s ready for a fun filled journey to the underworld?

Me neither.

There are a ton of people who actually enjoy riding a Pegasus . . . I am not one of those people.

To make things worse, this Pegasus, like myself, needed a good nap, yet here we were, on a longer than necessary flight to some random cave on the other side of New York.

Below us were random patches of green fields and forests before a small city broke the pattern.

The city of Lockport is just a real basic place. But right in the middle of the city is an odd canal structure.

Part small boat yard, part industrial structure, part tourist trap, this place could definitely house a path to the underworld.

A small concrete bridge sits above levels of staircases leading down into a canal. Workers and tourists wander around the area.

“I guess you guys can drop us off anywhere down there,” shouted Clovis over the roar of the wind and Pegasus wings.

The three winged-horses glanced as each other in a way that instantly made me suspicious. And rightly so, because just then, they all three bucked us from their backs and we were sent plummeting down into the dirty canal water.

* * *

The three of us climb up a set of stairs leading to the main building. We were dripping wet and muddy from the canal.

“I’m never riding a Pegasus again,” I grumbled, “so the next place we go, we’re taking a plane.”

“Deal,” the boys agreed with me.

We stood in front of the main office building. The sign above the door read: LOCKPORT CAVES. There was also a smaller, less official looking sign hanging just below it that read: AND SPA.

We smelled her before we saw her. The stench of cigarette smoke wafted through the air and pulled our attention to an old picnic table off to the side of the building.

Step mommy dearest puffed on a half-smoked cigarette and rubbed her forehead. Her normally perfect hair was pulled into a messy knot on top of her head, and her flowing hippy robes (usually blowing in the wind) hung limp at her sides.

“Pasithea?” Clovis asked, more to himself than her.

Pasithea turned around and rolled her eyes so hard I thought they were going to get lost in the back of her head.

“Gods. Just what I need,” she moaned.

“You know those things aren’t good for you, right?” Orrin pointed to the cigarette.

“I’m the goddess of relaxation,” she stated, “and this is helping me calm down since a nap is out of the question.”

“Could have just stretched,” I offered, stretching.

One of the weirdest things about the children of the sleep god is that if we yawn, stretch, rub our sleepy eyes, or crack our bones too often, everyone around us starts doing the same thing. No one is immune. Not even a goddess.

Pasithea stretched long and hard.

“Alright, alright!” She flicked her cigarette away. “I thought about calling you back and letting you know where his cave was, but then I realized that I didn’t want to talk to you again, so I didn’t.”

“Look, can you just show us where the cave entrance is, so we can make sure the rest of the world gets their beauty rest?” I asked.

Truth be told, I could have used some beauty rest myself. I was getting more and more cranky as time went on.

“You three demi-dorks better fix this,” Pasithea growled.

* * *

She led us down some sketchy wooden steps, waiving away any and all employees who tried to ask for our tickets. Most of the employees seemed very lost on the concept of a spa being added to their cave tour. Luckily, Pasithea could still use her powers of relaxation to help the mortals feel at ease with letting us enter the caves without paying.

We came to an eerie sewage tunnel opening on the canal’s inner edge. Rusty metal stairs led up to the entrance.

Pasithea opened the metal grated door to the caves and we stepped onto the long, dark path to the underworld.

“Have fun kiddos.” Pasithea waved her fingers and slammed the grate behind us.

There were little lights along the cave walls that lead down the tunnels, and after walking for what seemed like eternity (because we had to keep Orrin from touching every rock formation he could find) we found the boat ramp.

We waited until some families ahead of us floated away in rickety wooden boats before we stood in the waiting area.

“What now?” I asked, since there was no sign of any other boat showing up.

“We could try swimming to the underworld,” Clovis suggested.

“Can we just sit for a while and wait?” Orrin sank down to the damp floor and rested his head in his hands.

“I could drop a drachma into the water and see if a boatman shows up.” Clovis dug around in his pocket and pulled out a shiny golden drachma.

“That’s only if we assume this is like the main underworld entrance,” I said, looking around for any Greek looking instructions on the walls.

“Let me see the drachma,” Orrin instructed, standing up.

Orrin pinched the drachma between his fingertips and held it out over the water. Then, he tucked the coin in his fist and held his thumb up, hailing a ride.

“Orrin that’s not—” Clovis was about to take the coin back when a rhythmic putt-putt-putt sound came around the far corner.

As slow as a sunset, a rickety old wooden boat drifted around the corner and floated towards us.

“Well that was easy,” I said to Clovis.

At the helm of the little boat was a tall, slim man in a perfectly tailored suit and tortoiseshell sunglasses. His skin was brown, and his blonde hair was styled in a military cut. The color of his hair and suit matched perfectly.

I recognized him as Charon, the spirit of boundaries and territories. The ferryman of the dead.

His flawless image was ruined slightly by the dark blue Lockport Caves & Underground Boat Ride t-shirt he wore on top of his suit. I should also mention the tiny, stitched in lettering just below the main logo that read: & Spa.

Behind Charon was a little, beat up boat motor that puffed little clouds of smoke as it struggled to push the vessel along.

The boat stopped right in front of us, and Charon held out a boney hand.

“You godlings sure love visiting the underworld before you die.” Charon spoke in a thick British accent. “Trial run before you commit?”

We stepped into the boat.

“We’d like to go to Hypnos’s cave, please,” Clovis said.

The motor coughed, and we floated down the waterway.

“Ah, I heard something fishy was going on with Mr. Bedtime.” Charon had a sing-song way of talking. “Should have guessed his little godlings would flock to him at one point or another.”

“What do you mean fishy?” I asked.

“Well, earlier today, I stopped getting souls to deliver to the main gates. They just stopped coming. You’re the first ones I’ve had to ferry anywhere today and you’re not even dead!

“So, I asked around the underworld and Hypnos kept getting brought up. Since he and Thanatos, you know, the god of death and what not are twins, I figured something odd was going on with the both of them. Suppose I was right. But there weren’t any violent deaths either, so I guess Keres spirits have taken the day off too.”

Now, death is complicated in Greek mythology. A lot of gods, goddesses, spirits, entities, and beings have roles to play in death, fate, judgement, punishment, rebirth, etc. But the two main beings who rule over death specifically are Thanatos (dad’s twin brother), god of peaceful death, and the Keres, female spirits of violent death. You either go out with a fizzle or a bang in this realm. But the fact that neither of them seemed to be doing their job was concerning to say the least, and somehow Hypnos was involved.

“This feels really, really bad,” Orrin moaned.

“We need to get to the underworld as fast as possible,” Clovis informed Charon.

We rounded a corner and came to a long straight shot right to a dead end (no pun intended). Instead of turning the boat around, Charon kicked it into high gear.

We shot like a rocket down the waterway and it felt like a wild jet ski to hell. My siblings and I screamed for our lives.

“Not this fast!” Clovis yelled.

“Underworld express stops for no soul!” Charon flashed a grin as we sped across the water.

I like to think that I found inner peace and came to terms with my own mortality in that moment, but Gods no, I screamed my head off as we approached the cave wall at neck-break speed.

“Have fun godlings!” Charon shouted to us over the roar of the motor and wind.

The boat came to an instant stop, and Charon didn’t even move. My siblings and I, bound to the laws of physics, were the objects that tended to stay in motion.

We flew out of the boat and headed straight for the immovable object: the cave wall.

Yet, we never hit it. The wall itself was an illusion.

We flew straight through it and landed on a flat, rocky platform on the other side where we rolled over one another at top speed, finally coming to a rough stop on our stomachs.

“I hate quests!” I yelled as I rolled onto my back. “I want to go back to camp and go to sleep and never get out of bed.”

After groaning, complaining, and checking to see if we had any broken bones or internal bleeding, we finally got up and hiked down yet another dark and eerie tunnel.

“Anyone bring a flashlight?” I asked.

Orrin patted his pants pockets and pulled out a small glow stick.

“You’re kidding,” Clovis said flatly.

Orrin cracked and shook the stick, and the area around us lit up with a faint green glow.

“Better than nothing.” I shrugged, and we continued onward. “So, where exactly are we in the underworld?”

“I’m not totally sure. I don’t think anyone has really agreed on the layout of the underworld.” Cue the long, boring, snooze-fest explanation from Clovis. “My guess is that Hades has to do some feng shui every now and then to keep the spirits from figuring out where the exits are. Some writers have put the Hypnos cave in Tartarus, some say it’s near the Fields of Asphodel, or between the river Styx and Wall of Erebos. Some say it’s two separate caves, and it’s also supposed to have the river Lethe flowing from it.”

“Is anyone else getting weird vibes from this place?” Orrin looked around suspiciously.

“Am I getting weird vibes from the creepy, unending cave of darkness leading to the underworld?” The sarcasm was leaking out of me at that point.

“Yeah . . .” Orrin stopped walking. “We need a vibe check. Everything feels too weird. Take my hands.”

“Orrin, this isn’t the time for—”

Suddenly, strange whispers gave me goosebumps as voices floated towards us from up ahead. Clovis and I grabbed Orrin’s hands.

“Bad vibes,” Orrin whimpered.

Clovis took the glow stick and carefully walked forward.

The voices grew from a hiss, to a chatter, and finally to a heated conversation the closer we came.

“You’re bluffing,” a young male voice echoed off the walls causing us to all jump.

“Well, I am the personification of deceit, so yeah, bluffing is a safe bet,” answered a female voice.

“Unless she’s bluffing about bluffing again?” Another female voice suggested.

“Who in Hades is that?” A withered old man voice shouted to us.

Time to meet the extended family.

* * *

We approached the voices and found an odd sight: A group of seven gods and goddesses sitting around a poker table playing Go Fish.

Each figure was dressed in robes made of black fabric that seemed to suck the life out of our glow stick. They all had pale, sunken faces and dilated eyes.

These people were Geras, Oizys, Moros, Apate, Momus, Eris, and Nemesis. Otherwise known as Old Age, Suffering, Doom, Deception, Blame, Strife, and Retribution.

A fun crowd, and honestly, the most terrifying thing I’ve ever seen . . . and that’s coming from someone who explores nightmares in her spare time.

I should also mention the eighth god asleep on the floor under the table. Death, or as we like to call him, Uncle Thanatos.

Now don’t feel bad if you can’t keep up with who’s who. Trust me, they were all equally creepy and unnerving, and even I lost track of the ghostly faces in the darkness. I’ll make things simple and call them by their personifications from here on out.

Doom was the first to stand up, and he was not at all what I was expecting him to be.

“Welcome!” He held out his arms and grinned with a confident, flamboyant charm. “Let me guess. Are you lost souls? No. Tourists that got separated? No, surely not. Demigods? Little heroes! How fun!”

“Moros, please settle down.” Suffering rubbed her eyes.

“Oizys, we never have visitors,” Doom complained, “and I’m tired of all this me and gloom.”

“We’re looking for our father, Hypnos.” I managed to speak up.

“We’re fresh out of sleep around here.” Strife shuffled her cards.

“So, what’s that?” Orrin pointed to Thanatos under the table.

“Oh, Thanatos has been asleep for ages.” Deception kicked Thanatos, but he didn’t even stir. “Useless lump.”

“Don’t lie to them, Apate. He’s only been asleep since earlier today,” Retribution informed us.

“This is all Lyssa’s fault!” Blame shouted, his voice echoing off the walls again.

“No time to point fingers, Momus,” Strife hissed.

“Who’s Lyssa?” Clovis asked.

“She’s should be just though those—”

Suddenly, the red glow of hellfire illuminated the area around us before a wave of ear-piercing screeches filled the cave and drowned out anything Doom was about to say. Wind whipped up around us and I could make out the rapid moving figures of a thousand bats swarming around.

Clovis, Orrin, and I stood back-to-back in the center of the whirlwind. We ripped open our backpacks and pulled out three celestial bronze daggers, our weapons of choice. The closer we are to an enemy, the easier it is exhaust them.

“It’s the Oneiroi!” Clovis yelled. ‘They must have passed through one of the gates! Look up!”

Just above us, coming through the storm of dream and nightmare spirits was the golden face of a giant goddess. Her blood red hair flipped and flowed with the wind. She smiled and revealed razor sharp teeth. Her mouth foamed with hate, rage, and madness.

I couldn’t move. This was it. Eternal damnation. And all I could hear was the Go Fish game off to the side.

“You switched the cards while we were distracted!” Blame yelled.

“I did no such thing,” Deception argued.

“Hey kids,” a gentle voice spoke directly to us.

I looked forward and saw Hypnos walking through the chaos. He held his arms out to us. His pale skin looked exactly like Clovis’s. His curly black hair looked like mine. He was tall and broad like Orrin.

“I’m glad you came to visit.” He smiled.

“Dad?” I could hear Clovis whisper next to me.

“I’m fine, kids,” Hypnos reassured us, “a simple misunderstanding. You better get back to camp.”

Everything seemed to slow down. The sounds became distant and muffled. All I could hear was Hypnos telling us everything was perfectly normal. We were in the eye of a hurricane, and I didn’t care.

“Clovis,” Orrin whispered, “which gate do the false dreams fly through?”

“Huh? Ivory.” All of Clovis’s focus was on dad.

“It isn’t real! It’s a false dream! We’re dreaming, guys!”

“Good one, Orrin,” Dad chuckled.

Orrin shook me hard enough that I looked back to him and Clovis. All the blood had drained from Orrin’s face, giving him a ghostly look.

“Look!” Orrin pointed.

Through the gaps in the Oneiroi formation, the source of the hellfire light was revealed. Two doors at the end of the tunnel, one was shut, and the other was wide open, revealing a waterfall on the other side.

The Gates of Horn and Ivory. The gates the Oneiroi take.

“And look over there!”

In the opposite direction, our three bodies lay asleep on the ground near Thanatos, who was awake and signaling to us next to his own sleeping body.

Gotta love a surprise astral projection!

“It’s not real! That’s not dad! It’s a false dream! A trick!” Orrin’s voice was almost inaudible within the sudden return of the nightmare tornado. “Control the dream and send them away!”

“But don’t wake up yet!” Clovis warned. “We need to talk to Thanatos while we still can!”

“Come on, kids, stop fooling around. This is none of your business,” Dad shouted to us, but his deeper male voice began sounding distinctly female. “Go away!”

I focused all of my thoughts on one thing: getting that terrifying lady and her wild Oneiroi gang away from me. As I looked around, the chaos was filtered back through the door like a red and black toilet flushing, leaving only a few nightmare spirits fluttering around us.

“How did you know that was the ivory door?” I asked Orrin.

“Same way I knew the thumb thing would call Charon.”

“You had no clue, did you?”

“Took my best guess.”

We ran to Thanatos.

The personification of death is actually a lovely person, both in personality and in appearance. He and Hypnos may have been twins, but they couldn’t look more different.

Thanatos is very tall, well built. His skin is dark and well moisturized, and his black hair hangs in braids down to his shoulders. His golden eyes pierce the darkness.

Oh, he also has massive wings that shift from shades of black, blue, and purple as he moves.

“You’ll wake up soon, so listen carefully,” Thanatos spoke quickly. “That was Lyssa. She is an evil goddess who feeds off of rage and fury. She is forcing your father to keep everyone awake so that they will grow more and more angry and confused. She knows humans can die if they never sleep, and she trapped me in a sleeping curse, so I couldn’t collect their souls. She had the Keres stuck in sleep too.”

“So, people are technically immortal?” Clovis wondered.

“Yes, and she will feed off of their madness and anger, and she will grow powerful while everyone on Earth, Olympus, and the underworld grow weaker, yet more furious.” Thanatos watched the final Oneiroi pass through the ivory gate.

“Rage, fury, chaos. That’s what she wants. Stop her. Free your father, and she won’t have any power over—”

Clovis, Orrin, and I jolted awake in our bodies.

“Do children of Hypnos fall asleep like that often?” The old man, Geras, asked us from the poker table.

“Rage,” Clovis began, “how do we stop a goddess of rage, fury, and madness?”

"Pasithea?" I guessed.

Clovis shook his head. "She's no use. You saw her. What else could help? Something other than relaxation."

“Peace?” Orrin offered.

“Eirene!” Clovis and I spoke at the same time.

“Goddess of peace,” Strife grumbled, “can’t stand her.”

“Where do you find a goddess of peace?” Orrin asked.

Clovis looked blank. I smirked, finally having the intellectual upper hand. It was so obvious.

“Anyone up for a trip to Washington D.C.?”


	3. Orrin's Dream Journal

My dear reader, I pray to all of the gods that you never have to brave the JFK airport during an insomnia crisis.

Honestly, it wasn’t even a crisis yet. Most people by this time had essentially suffered though staying up past their bedtime. So, I guess it was just a normal day at the airport.

Three Hypnos children, on the other hand, were about to cut some heads off on this flight to D.C. Especially the dude kicking the back of my seat.

Normally, I'm the chill sibling, and that’s saying a lot for three people who sleep about as much as the average housecat. But I never lose my cool . . . unless someone kicks the back of my seat.

“I can’t take it anymore, guys.” I almost spilled my ginger ale. “Let’s get off the plane. Let’s jump off right now and land on a Pegasus and fly away. I want off this plane!”

I jumped up and tried to claw my way past Clovis and Tara, but they grabbed me and forced me back in my seat.

“Get a grip, Orrin,” Tara whispered through her teeth.

“I can’t be on this plane anymore.”

“Calm down. The flight’s only an hour and a half.”

My seat bumped forward again. That was it. Blind rage turned my vision red. I spun around and sat on my knees to see who was behind me.

“If you don’t stop—”

The girl was about my age. Long, silky black hair cascaded down her shoulders. She wore bright green headphones and nodded her head along with the music. She mindlessly flipped through a magazine. Her foot bumped against my seat again.

“Well, hello there.” I rested my arms on the back of my seat and placed my chin on top of my hands.

Her dazzling, brown eyes looked up at me from her magazine. She smiled and pulled her headphones off. I could hear a guitar rift play though the speakers.

“Oh, sorry, was I kicking your seat?” She pulled her legs back in the isle.

“Nope, not at all,” I lied, “I couldn’t help but hear your excellent taste in music.”

Clovis and Tara snickered beneath me.

“I didn’t realize I had the volume up so loud. Usually music and reading helps me sleep on these flights, but nothing seems to work.”

“Can’t sleep either, huh? Must be something in the air.”

I yawned, she yawned, and we giggled at our tiredness.

I won’t bore you with the details of my flawless flirtation skills, but by the time we landed in D.C., I had her number . . . and a bunch of cool new songs to add to my playlist.

I waved goodbye to her as we parted ways in the airport. Clovis and Tara had to drag me along as I tried to memorize the number on my palm.

“So, where exactly are we supposed to find the goddess of peace in Washington D.C.?” Clovis asked.

“You’ll see.”

* * *

The three of us stood in front of a large building at One Constitution Square in Washington D.C. It just looked like a regular, giant office building, and I was starting to doubt Tara’s judgement.

Tara walked to the rotating glass door and pushed. It wouldn’t budge. Neither would the other doors. Totally locked up. I guess this had something to do with the fact that it was the middle of the night.

A short woman in a security officer uniform sat behind the front desk and watched us come to terms with the locked doors. She pointed to her wrist watch and then waved for us to leave.

After being attacked by nightmare hounds, dropped into a canal by a Pegasus, having to hike through ancient underground tunnels, scraped up on some rocks, attacked by our nightmare siblings, and having to do most of this in reverse just to get to the airport, we probably looked like a trio of homeless teens looking for an open lobby to crash in.

“I didn’t consider closing hours.” Tara frowned.

“Do you want to tell us why you dragged us here yet, or is it still a surprise?” I could tell Clovis was getting cranky from not sleeping. We all were.

“Somewhere in this building, gentlemen, is the headquarters for . . . The Peace Corps.”

Clovis chuckled. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it myself. Peace goddess, peace corps. It’s so obvious.”

“But it’s useless if we have to wait until morning to meet with her. Tempers are just going to escalate, and Lyssa is going to get stronger.”

“Okay, okay, listen. Eirene isn’t gonna be able to sleep tonight. No one will, right? So, maybe she’s a workaholic. Peace never takes a day – or night – off. All we gotta do is break into a federal building, find her office, and find her. Worse case, she’s not here, we get her address, and we go see her at home,” Clovis rushed through his plan.

“I think the worst case is we get arrested for breaking into a federal building to steal personal information.”

“Thank you, Tara. That is also a possibility.”

I tried to get us to stay positive. “Guys! We are demigods, for crying out loud. We’re the children of Hypnos, right?”

“Right.”

“We’ve made it this far, right?”

“Right!”

“We want to get to sleep again, right?”

“RIGHT!”

“Then let’s break into a federal building!”

We ducked into an alley and dumped out the contents of our bags to see if we managed to pack anything useful. Our salvation came in the form of a tiny pepper spray bottle in Tara’s bag.

“Pepper spray?” Clovis investigated the bottle.

“Lethe water,” Tara explained, “I figured it might come in handy in case we needed to make a monster forget why he was attacking us.”

“That’s . . . actually super smart,” Clovis admitted. “Am I really the smart sibling? Is that still a thing?”

“Okay, here’s what we can do,” Tara began, “we can get security lady to open the door wide enough to talk to us, and then we spray her.”

“Hang on. Won’t that make her forget everything? Like, everything, everything? Are we willing to take it that far?”

We all looked at each other for a moment. The tension was thick, and my heartbeat thumped in my ears before we all spoke at the same time.

“Yep.”

* * *

We sat the newly amnesiac security woman back behind her desk and did our best to help her not feel as lost as a newly claimed demigod. Don’t judge us. The fate of humanity was at stake. Look on the bright side! At least she gets to re-watch all of her favorite movies for the first time again!

It was pretty easy getting her to come to the door. She seemed annoyed with us showing up again, so she probably came to yell at us. She opened the door just a crack, and Tara sprayed her right in the eyes. When she stepped back in shock, she closed the door again. What followed was a ten-minute shouting and miming session where we had to teach a very lost woman how to unlock and open a door.

She finally managed to figure it out as I held Tara on the ground to keep her from breaking the glass and strangling the poor lady.

We looked in the building directory and found which floor and office Eirene worked in. I felt bad leaving the security woman sitting all alone and confused, but like I said, the fate of the world was in our hands. Stop judging us!

The ding of the elevator signaled that we had reached our floor, and after poking our heads out to check for cleaning staff, we saw, at the end of the hallway, a single light that shined from an open office room.

Bingo.

Approaching with caution, I felt myself get more and more at ease. I wanted to suddenly apologize for holding Tara back from breaking the door down.

As soon as I stepped inside Eirene’s office, a wave of calm came over me. This was where all of my problems could be solved, and I never wanted to have another conflict for the rest of my days. Funny enough, Peaceful Easy Feeling by The Eagles was quietly playing in the background.

Hippy memorabilia were mixed in with large law books, social justice leader biographies, and stacks upon stacks of files, papers, and memos. Though the feelings in the air were relaxed, the general pandemonium of a busy corporate office was everywhere.

The woman working behind the desk looked up at us. Her hair was dark brown and neatly groomed, with the ends flipping upwards just as it reached the tops of her shoulders. She had a crooked nose with cat eye glasses sliding down the center arc. Her features were sharp, and so was her business woman power suit. She had the appearance of a librarian who couldn’t choose between business or law school as a backup plan.

“Oh, hi. Can I help you?” She took her glasses off and folded them in front of her.

“Eirene?” Clovis asked.

“Yes?”

“Goddess of peace?”

“Ah. Demigods.” She stood and walked around her desk. “I told the half-bloods long ago that I wasn’t going to interfere in your family drama.”

“We’re actually here about Lyssa.”

“Lyssa? That rabies goddess? Yuck.” She pumped some hand sanitizer into her palm and tried to sanitize the thought of Lyssa out of her skin.

“Um, rabies?”

“Lyssa, goddess of rabies, mad rage, fury, and crazed frenzy? That Lyssa, right?”

Clovis looked at me and Tara.

“Phobetor came as a rabid dog to warn us about Lyssa!”

“Her foaming at the mouth wasn’t just a scare tactic!”

“It was scary though.”

Clovis explained the whole situation to Eirene.

“So, let me get this straight,” Eirene began, “you want me to go all the way to the underworld, defeat a rabies goddess, and help free the gods of sleep and death so that everyone can take naps again?”

We nodded.

“I usually intervene in times of war,” she explained, “not times of general mayhem. What makes you think my peace is the opposite of her rage?”

“Inner peace? Peace of mind?” Tara offered.

“You have a point.” Eirene shrugged. “I guess peace is pretty hard to find when you haven’t gotten a full 8 hours. My recruits won’t do much good if they’re all cranky . . . Alright. Let’s go stop Lyssa.”

* * *

Another exhausting flight, some taxi rides, and another horrifying boat right to hell later and we were approaching our favorite Go Fish enthusiasts of the underworld. I promised myself that if I ever got out of this quest alive, I would never, ever miss a chance to sleep again. We were all running on empty and it showed.

“Oh, hey!” Doom welcomed us again. “Your lovely mother was just here.”

“What?” We all three asked.

“Patsy something,” Deception said.

“Pasithea,” Retribution corrected.

“Gods,” Tara mumbled.

Eirene, Clovis, Tara, and I walked to The Gates of Horn and Ivory.

The ivory gate was solid, but the horn gate was a bit more translucent. They were both ornately decorated. The gate of horn was already ajar, and like the Lockport caves, we could smell her before we saw her.

We passed through the gate and saw the river Lethe waterfall manifest from somewhere above us. It veered off to the right and flowed out into the underworld so souls who wish to be reborn can drink from it and forget their past lives.

I looked at the large mouth of the cave, further down the path, and my breath caught in my throat.

A giant dreamcatcher was tied around the curve of the cave opening. Hypnos was tangled up by his arms and legs in the very center, like a fly caught in a spiderweb. He pulled and pulled, trying to get loose, but the dreamcatcher wouldn’t budge. The red glow from the underworld made dad a black silhouette, casting a sinister shadow on the cave walls and floor.

The cigarette smoke wafted to our noses and brought our attention to two women arguing just below the dreamcatcher. Pasithea held a cigarette in each hand, plus smoked one in her mouth, and she had another tucked behind her ear. She looked as if she was losing her temper. She was waiving her arms around in a rage.

The other woman, the one who’s face had appeared above us in the Oneiroi attack, was Lyssa. She leaned against the cave wall and smiled as if she was bathing in the warm sunlight of Pasithea’s fury.

This might be odd to say, but Lyssa was beautiful in a really terrifying way. Like a big fire, or a stormy ocean, or a violent tiger. She had dark red hair, bloodshot golden eyes, red and black armor over a leather bodysuit, and a golden sword hanging at her side. Part Greek warlord, part biker gang leader, Lyssa matched the general vibe of the underworld pretty well.

We arrived just in time to hear the end of Pasithea’s tantrum.

“I’m not going to tell you again,” she shouted, “let my husband go so I can yell at him properly!”

“But I’m enjoying this way too much.” Lyssa spoke with a deeper register; her voice had a rasp to it.

Clovis cleared his throat once we got closer.

“There you idiots are!” Pasithea called out. “I was about ready to curse you for abandoning your father.”

“We had to pick up a friend to bring to the party.” Tara gestured to Eirene.

“Reenie,” Lyssa greeted, “so weird to see you here.”

“Enough, Lyssa. Restore sleep, restore death, and stop this nonsense.”

“Don’t be mean, Eirene. I’m only seeing how long everyone can go without sleep before they start tearing each other apart.”

“It’s won’t work.”

“But it already has. The goddess of relaxation resorted to nicotine to help her calm down, and your three heroes are about ready to take my head off. It feels wonderful!”

“You three, try to free Hypnos. I’ll take care of Lyssa,” Eirene instructed us.

“That won’t work,” Lyssa sang out, mockingly. “I have a fun little curse that keeps Mr. Sandman all tied up.”

“Technically, Morpheus is Mr. Sandman,” I corrected.

Big mistake.

Lyssa pulled her golden sword from her waist, and it seemed to grow a foot longer. She cried out with fury as she ran at me.

Before I could even react, Eirene pulled a dove feather quill from her pantsuit pocket and transformed it into a longsword. She blocked Lyssa’s blow and the two goddesses engaged in a bizarre biker vs. politician sword fight.

My siblings and I were stunned.

“Free Hypnos! Go!” Eirene blocked Lyssa’s forward advances, and Lyssa blocked Eirene’s.

We sprinted past Pasithea lighting another cigarette and got to the bottom of the dreamcatcher.

Clovis looked back at the fighting women. “Tara, can’t you spray her with the Lethe water?”

“Bad idea,” Pasithea interjected, “it’ll make her revert back to her natural form. Feral, violent, rabid. Not fun.”

“Keep her away from the river then. Noted.”

“Gods, can you put those things out?” Tara grabbed Pasithea’s new cigarette and flicked it into the water.

“You do not treat me like that young lady!” Pasithea screamed. “I am a goddess! And your stepmother!”

“I don’t know what’s worse!”

“How dare you!”

“Okay, STOP!” I bellowed. “We’re fueling Lyssa’s powers when we fight. That’s what she wants.”

“You’re right,” Clovis got that face he makes when he’s thinking really hard and he gets all pinched up. “We have to fuel Eirene’s powers. We need peace. We have to find inner and outer peace.”

“I can’t do that unless I am so far in my REM cycle, a bomb couldn’t wake me up.”

“And I can’t do it unless she goes away.” Tara crossed her arms and turned her back on Pasithea.

“No, we need her.”

“Come again?”

“Hello! Goddess of relaxation here!”

“You’re the least relaxing thing in this room, and that’s saying something.” Tara gestured to the raging battle in front of us.

As we were fighting, Lyssa had grown at least two feet taller, and her eyes seemed to glow like a wildfire. She smiled as she repeatedly slammed her sword against Eirene’s.  
Eirene was losing steam, fast. Her perfectly groomed hair was hanging limp, and it stuck to the sweat on her face.

Above us, Hypnos groaned against the tightening ropes of the dreamcatcher.

Clovis brought our attention back. “We think sleep is where we find our comfort, as children of Hypnos, but it’s our dreams that are actually what makes us useful as heroes, warriors, and friends. We just need to escape into a dream to find our peace.”

“And how are we supposed to do that without sleeping?” I was perplexed by Clovis’s logic.

“A daydream.”

Pasithea dropped all of her cigarettes. “It’s just a simple hallucination. I can do that.”

Pasithea had the three of us sit in a meditation position, with our legs crossed, our arms relaxed, and our eyes closed. She touched each of our foreheads and she breathed deeply, pushing all of her power into our conscious minds.

“Find your happy place and walk through the door.”

I opened my eyes and stepped into cabin #15 at camp. The smell of laundry welcomed me, and the sound of violin music guided me to my favorite place: my bed. The cool sheets and warm comforter wrapped me in a hug and reassured me that the worst was over, I could try again tomorrow, everything was going to be okay.

Clovis and Tara were there too. We smiled at each other as we tucked ourselves in. Cups of warm milk floated down to our bedside tables. Tara held her Teddy bear close. Life was good.  
I blinked, and I was back in the cave, but I didn’t mind. The feelings of my happy place lingered like a good daydream should.

I watched as Eirene grew to be taller than Lyssa. Her sword caused devastating echoes around the cave as she fought. Her powers of peace pulsated off of her body with each blow she struck. The floor quaked and pebbles of the cave wall chipped away as the women battled. The roof rattled with tension.

Pasithea meditated quietly next to me. I looked to my siblings.

“We could die if the cave collapses,” I said calmly.

“We sure could,” Tara agreed.

“I’m willing to die if it means we save the world. Hopefully Eirene can free Thanatos and we won’t just be stuck in the eternal pain of a cave in.” Clovis watched the goddesses fight. “I’m sure it’ll be fine though. I think we’ve become worthy of a hero’s death.”

We all nodded.

“Elysium will be better spent with you two.”

“Perhaps we’ll meet in the Isle of the Blest. We never did those past life regressions. This could be our final life.”

“I’m cool with that, if you guys are.”

“I’m going to miss our cabin at camp.”

“Maybe our daydream wasn’t a memory, but a glimpse to what we can expect from Elysium?”

“I hope so, because that was pretty nice.”

We all nodded in agreement as chunks of rock fell from the roof and crumbled around us.

Eirene stood ten feet tall, with Lyssa a mere seven feet. Eirene raised her blade above her head and inflicted her final blow on the goddess of rage.

The blast was devastating. The cave shook with relief, not fury, as Lyssa fell to the ground, defeated.

The ropes of the dreamcatcher fell away behind us.

A faint, white light cast new shadows from above, like a nightlight, as Hypnos landed in front of us.

“Lyssa,” he spoke in an evenly tempered voice, “it’s past your bedtime.”

Hypnos held his hand out and a ray of light engulfed Lyssa’s shrunken body, but instead of exploding, or screaming in agony, Lyssa gently laid her head down on her hands and closed her eyes, falling fast asleep.

* * *

We burst through the gate of horn and shouted our victory to the Go Fish table.

“We did it! We stopped Lyssa!” We cheered and cheered.

Eirene, back to normal size again, cleared her throat.

“What’s this ‘we’ business?”

“Thank you, Eirene,” Clovis said sincerely.

That seemed to be good enough for her because she simply told us that she would be expecting 2 years of Peace Corps service from us after we finish college (provided we live that long), and then she showed herself out.

Thanatos crawled out from under the table and straightened his armor.

“If you’ll excuse me, I am way behind my soul collection schedule. Charon is going to be very busy.” Thanatos spread his wings and flew to the underworld.

Doom shook our hands. “Very well done, demigods. Looks like you may end up meeting Geras at the end of your days after all.”

“It is an honor to meet me!” Old Age cried out.

“Come on, kids,” Hypnos guided us back to the Lockport caves, “we should get you back to camp. You should be getting a proper hero’s welcome there.”

“Not so fast, mister.” Pasithea grabbed dad’s arm. “If you don’t come back to my spa after dropping them off, I will make you wish you were back in that dreamcatcher. Got it?”

Hypnos nodded, more in fear than agreement.

* * *

A few planes, trains, and automobiles later, dad was hiking with us up Half-Blood Hill just as the sun reached a high point in the sky.

“I’m afraid this is where we part. Don’t want to keep Pasithea waiting,” dad explained, “but I want you three to know how proud I am of you. I haven’t done the best job in my past as a god. I’ve lied, tricked, and ran away from many things I should have faced. I have a bit of a poor reputation up in Olympus for my cowardly behavior, but the things that you kids have done these past two days have shined a redemptive light on your future as heroes. No more will gods or heroes look down on the children of Hypnos.”

It was pretty cool hearing that from him, and I'm not going to lie, I cried a little bit.

We hugged and said our goodbyes, and dad invited us to come play Go Fish with him anytime . . . and then he left. A bittersweet departure. Parental relations as a demigod are anything but easy, so any chance we get to talk with our godly parent is special.

“Shall we go have our heroes welcome?” Tara grinned.

We all ran to the crest of the hill and looked down on a totally empty, silent summer camp. Not a camper in sight.

Come to find out, everyone was fast asleep in their bunks, having missed most of their sleep from last night.

My siblings and I went to the pavilion where we burned some lunch food sacrifices to Hypnos, Thanatos, and especially Eirene, as thanks for their help in the quest. And we even burned some for Phobetor for his warning dream, and Pasithea for her daydream.

Then we headed back to cabin #15 for some much-needed rest.

\- The End -


End file.
